You and Simon have been dating for years now.
Your love life is amazing, the sex, even better.
He’s rough, and dominating, making you feel small and stupid in the best ways possible.
Allowing your thoughts to go quiet.
Tonight was a perfect night.
You lay in bed, your legs still shaking from the nth orgasm you had that night.
Your clothes are thrown, left forgotten somewhere in the corner of your shared room.
Simon’s downstairs, grabbing you a glass of water after such a scene.
Tonight… he was rougher than usual.
Touching you with harsh hands, and speaking with mean words.
A look in his eye that you’ve never seen before.
Something that looked too closely to the way he would look at any other stranger.
Just enough to make you wonder.
Enough to let thoughts spiral.
Enough to remember every command.
Every ache of your worn out body.
Your arms are littered in Simon’s fingerprints.
Bite marks throbbing on your shoulder and neck.
Your ass bright red from spankings.
You slowly roll over onto your side trying to relieve yourself of the sting.
A small sound leaving your lips.
Did he mean it, when he called you a whore?
A piece of ass only meant to fuck?
Tears began to welt in your eyes before you knew what was happening. Your gaze fixed onto the wall.
The puddle forming under your cheek starts slow.
Simon walks back in, naked as the day he was born when his eyes find you.
He stops dead in his tracks.
You’re curled up on yourself, looking like a ghost.
You hear his steps quicken.
The glass clinks as it’s placed down.
His heart is racing in his chest as he approaches.
Your eyes slowly find his.
Cheeks beaten red, blotchy with tears.
He sits down beside you, eyes scanning over your shaking form.
He knows something is wrong but doesn’t know what.
He didn’t do anything different tonight, not to his memory.
His hand lifts but hesitates, dropping back to his side.
“Are you okay.. did I hurt you?”
His voice wavers with concern.
You can’t answer, your throat tightening at his worry.
Unable to meet his eyes, suddenly feeling guilty at your tears.
Your thoughts eat at you.
Your mouth opens and only a broken sound comes out.
Simon reaches for his shirt sitting only a foot away, pulling it over your head.
You allow it, slipping your hands through the sleeves.
It’s big, like a dress on you.
Your eyes are still down in your lap.
He leans in, gently pulling your hair from your shirt without a word.
The gesture allows you to breathe.
Giving you some sense of security.
“M’ here luvie.. you can tell me anything.”
He whispers, his hand gently patting down your hair, soft like you’ll disappear if he touches you with too much pressure.
He’s close, but not suffocating you.
Giving you space to breathe, to process.
You’re quiet for a long moment. Leaning into the warmth of his hand as a comfort.
“Simon… you were.. really mean.”
You manage to get out, unable to look at him.
You pause the word feeling wrong on your tongue.
He feels his blood run cold at your tone. So small, so unlike your bright self.
He begins to overthink, replaying everything he said, how he touched you.
His hand freezes on you for just a moment.
His tone makes your eyes snap over to him.
His hand moves again, slowly moving down your cheek.
“I am so sorry… I never meant to hurt you..”
Even if he doesn’t fully understand, he knows enough.
“I was too rough on you..”
You wince as he gently caresses the inflamed skin he was once so rough to.
His words come out small, hesitant to ask for more than he should.
You nod with a small sniffle.
He doesn’t wait a second.
Picking you up under your legs, pulling you into his warm chest.
His chin rests on top of your head as you breathe into him.
Your shoulders shaking with attempts to keep your cries in.
He coos to you, his hand rubbing circles on your back. Big, slow motions. Warm and heavy on your clothed back.
Trying to apologize in every touch.
Every twitch of his fingers.
You breathe deeply, feeling like every pass of his hand only breaks the dam inside you further, until you just can’t take it.
You sob into him, loud and ugly.
Hiding your face into him as your entire body shakes.
So tight, like he wants to pull you inside of him.
His heart pounding with worry.
You slur into his chest like a mantra.
His heart breaks a little.
He pulls you closer if that’s possible, murmuring in your hair.
“Shh..shh.. don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”
He replies, calm and soft.
His hands going to your scalp, gently massaging.
You’re close enough you can hear his heartbeat.
Despite such, he continues.
“Breathe for me luv.. breathe.”
He rests his cheek on your head, taking a breath of your hair, reeling in you.
“I’m the one that should be apologizing.. you should never feel like this.. not with me.”
So gently, like you’re made of porcelain, he tilts your head up, collecting your tears.
“You are everything to me, my world, my entire heart. I thought you wanted to feel small under me…”
He pauses kissing your temple.
“If you don’t want that, it’ll never happen again.”
You shake your head, cheek moving against his palm.
You take his hand in yours, feelings swirling in your chest.
“I.. I do want that.. I like it when you’re mean.. sometimes..”
you speak softly, your eyes red rimmed, meeting his for a glimpse.
You’re keeping something in, and he can see it.
“Then.. what’s got you like this..?”
He responds, his tone patient. Only for you.
His fingers tangling in your hair.
You pause, closing your eyes as you gather courage.
His heart lurches at your tone.
His arms wrap around your shoulders.
His breath soft against the back of your head.
When he speaks again it’s hesitant. Careful.
“M’.. sorry dovie.. how can I help you now?”
You lean into him, more than grateful for his comfort.
You whisper back, your eyes closing, a small frown on your lips.
He doesn’t respond verbally.
Taking the signs he leans in, kissing so softly over the bite mark he left on your shoulder.
Again, at the bruises on your arms.
Fingers carefully moving against your sides, finding your sore hips.
His hands pull you back into him. Whispering words of affection.
“My pretty baby.. always so good for me.. yeah?”
He asks, his hands pausing.
His honey eyes soften when they find yours.
“Say it, pretty… for me?”
His voice is low but so careful, in a way that makes your thoughts go quiet as you repeat his words.
you nod, feeling a tightness in your chest, a burn in your nose.
He holds you softly, his big hands moving down your thighs.
He whispers into your skin.
Tears roll down your cheeks again.
This time, not out of pain, or insecurity.
But the way he loves you.
So sweetly kissing at every mark, every bruise, every affliction to your skin.
He shifts, pulling your back to his chest.
His hand wrapping around your jaw to make you look up at him.
His eyes serious, tone low.
“I love you, more than anything.”
He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours.
“You’re never alone with me. I’m here with you, always. More than just sex. More than any scene.”
His rough but controlled, keeping eye contact.
He ends with a kiss to your wet cheek.
Your heart warming in your chest.
He wraps his arms around your middle, resting into you.
“Let me draw you a bath.. we can soak together… how does that sound luv..?”
He asks, barely a whisper.
“I.. I’d really like that, Si.”
